Perspective

I’m finding my perspective, where I really belong. 

Learning that my voice bears reason and has a weight if it’s own. 

My heart is still on a walk-about, looking for it’s purpose. 

Deep down I think I already know, but there’s still a wondering. 

A shot of whisky to warm my insides trailed by a solo cup of wine. 

Funny how certain things become their own quiet little tradition only just for you. 

Like this same cheap shit I drink on long cowboy days. 

How a certain song sings to you the same memory every time. 
And how the wind can blow eerie and unsettling sharing your same emotions.

Someday it’ll all come together like one big puzzle. 

Pieced up with graceful, smooth pieces and jagged, painful ones too. 

I’ve been clawing at the darkness tainting the backs of my eyelids, hoping to fill the emptiness with light. 

Holding onto and unable to let go of the pit in my stomach that changes by the minute from pain to hate to self pity. 

Part of process I guess.

You’d think healing would be pretty, a fully positive state, where everything gets “better”.

But it’s not; it’s mostly ugly, a heart fighting a sincere battle with darkness, striving to win. 

I’m not sure I’ve quite put my thumb on what I actually want to feel, but I will. 

I’ll find it out of somewhere, or nowhere. 

In the trees, a blue sky, my horse’s eye. 

I’ll search in God’s creation for the rest of what He created for me. 

XoXo, Gussie

*CSI Saddle Pads

*Mike Keetch Saddle